Tour Guides


One of the great things about living single in Manhattan is the over-active social scene. There are bars, clubs, parties here to cater to any desire imaginable, cuisine from all over the world, and the world’s best entertainment options. Of course, this scene draws visitors like moths to a flame. Case in Point: Amy and Michelle. My company’s budgeting process required coordination between my group and these two Marketeers, both of whom decided these meetings were better held here than in our Corporate HQ. An email from Michelle explained the “airfares require a Saturday night stay”, that she and Amy would make a weekend of it, and would I like to join them for a night on the town, the Saturday before our meetings? Great… I have what I would call a passing professional relationship with both women: I have been in meeting with them, but I would have been hard-pressed to give anything more than a general impression of either woman. I could not remember if either one was married, had a boyfriend (or girlfriend for that matter), or much of anything about either woman. I resigned myself to having a fun evening of drinks, exchanging company gossip, and setting the stage for productive meetings later in the week.

We had decided to meet for drinks in their hotel bar sometime around 10:00. I decided to play the penultimate NYC Girl with a somewhat conservative edge, so I dressed in a little black dress and not-quite-fuck-me pumps, with black seamed thigh-highs completing the look. Underneath it all, I wore a matching thong and strapless bra, also in black. I did not expect anyone would actually see what I had on under the dress, but the small thrill I got from dressing up a bit would make up for the evening talking shop.

I walked into the lounge, quickly spotted them, and almost as fast noticed I was already at a two-drink deficit. Turns out they came down from their rooms around 9:00, when the place was deserted, which at least ensured we had a prime location at the bar. We exchanged kiss-hug pleasantries, then I joined them and I added my drink to their standing order. They complimented my dress, how well I looked, and both agreed NYC agreed with my disposition. Both Michelle and Amy dressed to impress, both had on skirts with drops higher than my dress, with Michelle going for the fun and flirty look while Amy deciding a tight skirt just what her hips needed. I laughed a bit when I remembered I originally I thought I needed to tone things down a notch or two!

It also became apparent to me they had no interest in talking shop, either. What did become apparent was that both wanted a “Sex and the City” kind of evening. While not against such a thing in principle, in fact I dislike mingling my personal and professional lives. While it would have been great to go to a club, meet some cute guys, make them buy us drinks, and let them in our panties; I did not want such tales to travel back around the company campfire, which is what I feared would happen with these two. And I did not want to have Monday morning meeting with them, having seen them hook up on Saturday evening.

Of course, Amy managed to start flirting with a couple of admittedly cute bridge and tunnel boys sitting on the right side of us. When Michelle joined in pointing their attention in another direction, I looked around the bar and began a countdown until I could make my escape. Just as I was bringing my drink to my lips, my stationary hips collided with someone else’s hips, and I just barely managed to get the upturned drink away from my dress. I turned to my left; ready to throw my death-stare at whoever intruded on my space, when a hand went to my shoulder and a feminine voice called out an apology to me. I had to look up to meet her very open and deep brown eyes, relented my death-stare, and returned her smile. She turned back to her friends, and I turned back to my drink.

Amy’s boy noticed I had almost spilled my drink, and decided he needed to announce my apparent inebriation to anyone within earshot: “Whoops! Someone has a drinking problem!”

Amy came to my quick defense, telling him “That’s Susan. She’s our tour guide.” Thanks, Amy. “She lives here.” She continued by way of explanation.

“Oh, really,” said the taller of the B&T Boys, “where do you live?”

“Hell’s Kitchen,” I answered back, somewhat miffed I had been drawn into this mating dance, then asked “And you two?”

“Yeah… we both live over in Hoboken. We have a great view of Manhattan, just can’t see paying those Manhattan rents” came back his answer.

How nice, I thought: You have a great view of a place you cannot afford. I was thinking of something nice to say about New Jersey when his friend joined in with, “Sounds like you two are paying her too much!”

I bit my tongue, smiled at his joke, and quickly turned back to the bar. Just as the next drink appeared, I felt another nudge on my hip. The same woman as before stood there, obviously nudging me on purpose. She had turned from her friends a bit, as I had from mine, smiled again, and asked, “Are we having görükle escort fun yet?”

I gave her another look. I would put her somewhere in her 40’s, with a very elegant edge to her. She wore her well-coiffed hair off the shoulder, had on this shiny black halter-top with mesh sleeves, and a straight-line leather mini, all of which fit her very curvy form like a glove. She wore tall black leather boots with a spike heel; even without them she had a couple inches on me, with her boots she seemed to tower above me. She also held my gaze, nodded her head towards me, and had the best smile I had seen that evening. Yes, I took notice of her.

I took another look over her shoulder to find her friends now passing pictures amongst themselves. One of them called her by name, and Mari returned to their fold.

“I think you need to go.” I laughed and turned back to Amy and Michelle.

“Susan, who was that?” asked Michelle.

“Another tour guide” came back my reply, but I do not think Michelle minded my answer, considering the hand now placed on her thigh. Amy seemed equally into her new friend, as I continued nursing my drink with studied disinterest.

I looked over my shoulder to catch Mari’s eye, when I did I smiled and got one back. I turned back to my drink and thought “Oh, if only…” Apparently, Mari shared my thoughts, as soon I felt her hip nudge against mine. Again. This time the contact was less a bump than it was a very nice rub. Turning my attention back to Amy and Michelle, making sure they had not noticed my flirtation with Mari, I pushed back a bit, and Mari kept contact between her ass and mine.

I returned to the conversation between Amy, Michelle, and their admirers. Loud laughs came and went as they made comparisons between the East and West coasts, and I added my thoughts as someone living a bicoastal lifestyle. The boys were now mentioning various and sundry bars in the area, seeking to show my colleagues a bit more of the Manhattan nightlife. When asked I added my thoughts and silently counted my lucky stars all four of them would soon be on their way. All I needed to do was find my moment to make a graceful exit.

Mari and her group of friends must have had the same thought. As she passed by, she did look over her shoulder, right at me, raised her eyebrow in a questioning look and smiled. I smiled, rolled my eyes a bit before I nodded to my friends, and turned back to Amy and Michelle.

Sans distraction, I had little choice but to listen to the boys work their charm on Amy and Michelle. By now, they had all settled on next going to a champagne bar just down the street from their hotel. I remembered that old rhyme, that champagne making girls dance and drop their pants, noticed how everyone was getting very chummy, and hoped neither Amy nor Michelle would have too great a hangover, or too many regrets, the next morning.

I walked with them to the door, right up to the taxi stand, where I found Mari and her friends still saying their goodbyes. Amy, Michelle, and the boys were moving past the entrance towards the champagne bar. I looked at Mari, who threw me a sidelong glance, discreetly nodding her head in the opposite direction. I stood there, evaluating Mari. She stood in profile to me, her hand on her hip, her breasts looking fabulous as they strained against her top, and her very long legs giving me very wicked thoughts. I had this insane desire, right at that very moment, to walk up to her and kiss her. I felt a familiar sensation deep in my tummy, traveling down between my legs and back. I placed my hand on my tummy, called Amy and Michelle back, told them I was not feeling well, but that I hoped they had a great time. Michelle called Amy over, we all exchanged kisses and hugs; I gave the boys the “Nice to meet you!” line, and they were off.

I waited until they turned the corner then turned towards Mari. I went over to the taxi stand, stood back while Mari said goodbye to the last of her friends, and stood next to her. She gave me a look, the same one I imagine spiders give their prey, and asked if I wanted to share a cab with her. Of course, I did. She gave the driver the name of another hotel, and we grandly moved from TriBeCa to SoHo.

“You’re Susan” she said by way of introduction.

“You’re Mari” I answered back.

Soon we were at our destination. We went in and up the stairs to the very crowded bar. Somehow, she managed to spot a couple of seats in the corner as we stepping past the fashionistas and metrosexuals in permanent residence. Within seconds, she had the bartender’s eye and we had a couple of drinks in front of us.

“I’m glad you followed my lead,” were her first words, once we had our drinks.

“You seem very pleased with yourself” I shot back.

She liked that answer. She threw her head back and laughed, then brought her glass up to toast “To new friends”.

I clinked my glass to hers and drank to that. She placed her hand on my back. It felt good there. After spending the first part of the evening bursa escort bayan as the apparently overpaid tour guide to a couple of vacationing colleagues, it felt good to have her very warm hand on my bare shoulder. I craned my neck back, took another sip of my drink, and told her “That feels nice”.

She grabbed her drink with her other hand, leaving one on me, and we toasted the joys of out of town visitors. I asked about her friends, was there a specific occasion, filling the silence with meaningless questions. She answered my questions, explaining that her friends were down from Westchester for a “girls night out”, and somehow managed to edge closer and move her hand from my shoulder to my thigh, and kept her eyes on me as best she could. I liked her. She looked fabulous, had a great touch, I was enjoying her seducing me. I lifted my chin, and turned my entire body to her.

In a way, I presented myself to her; in a way, by my openness I invited her to open to me. She did. She flipped her shoulder-length brown hair back from her eyes and continued. She is an executive for a cosmetics company, a part owner in a downtown gallery, a devoted practitioner of yoga, and has a SoHo loft. Tales of travel to India and Bali rounded out her tale, ending with her happily in NYC these past 15 years. She is as cultured as she is elegant, and exceedingly attractive to boot.

She listened to me as I told her the basics of my life. I told her I am divorced, with no kids, and am new to New York. That I enjoy the differences between San Francisco and Manhattan, how the former seems quite similar to the latter, and that I enjoy being single.

She asked if I had a boyfriend and I said no with a slight chuckle. That caught her notice, and then asked if I had a girlfriend. I told her no by shaking my head and smiling.

“Are you through with men, Susan? She asked.

“No, ” I answered, “men are an itch I scratch.”

She liked that answer. I placed my hand on hers and crossed my legs. I asked her the same thing, she hesitated a moment before she answered. She did have a man in her life, though was not married. I see…

“Where is he this evening?” I asked.

“Girls have girls night out, boys have boys night out” she answered in a very direct tone, then continued, “He has his life and I have mine.”

“What would he think if he came in here now and saw you with me?” I asked, wishing to avoid the drama of a jealous boyfriend.

“Oh, he would love it!” came back her answer; almost in surprise that I would think otherwise. She gave me a very even look, which told me she has no issues with having a boyfriend and dating women, and I let the matter drop. We shared a few more thoughts and laughs, and even a quick kiss when her head moved closer to mine, before she asked if I would like to see her loft. Yes, I would.

It was a quick enough walk from the bar to her place. She flipped on the lights, turned on some music, and motioned me over to the kitchen bar. She walked over to the kitchen area, I stood on the other side of the kitchen bar, while she selected a chilled bottle of wine, pulled down a couple of glasses, and poured us yet another drink. We both smacked our lips, then she walked around the bar stood next to me, and we kissed. I had wanted to do that for some time and it showed. She has a very wide mouth, which I like, and I loved opening my mouth to hers. She tasted fabulous, the combination of her spicy dinner still apparent as was the vodka and wine. Her tongue felt fabulous in my mouth, and I liked that I needed to crane my neck back while she held and kissed me.

Her hands moving along my shoulders to my breasts and down to my hips all as I stood pushed back against the bar. She grabbed my hands and placed them on her very ample breasts while I kissed her neck. Her hands went behind my head and she pulled my mouth deeper into her neck and shoulder. Her hands running down my back soon met the top of my dress. She felt long enough to notice the back hook and zipper while my hands went around her back to her hips and to the waist of her skirt. Both of us wanting to undress each other, but neither of us wanted to break our embrace. She had managed to unhook my dress and was pulling the zipper from the fabric when the ringing phone ruined our moment.

Gee, I wonder who that could be.

Mari broke our embrace and moved to answer her phone. I understood: If she did not answer then he would leave a message, and the unnamed boyfriend would take shape in our thoughts. I would hear his voice, I would know something about him, and for right now, Mari wanted to keep that to herself. I did not like it but I understood.

She answered the phone as I turned back to my glass of wine. She told him about her evening, the highlights of the dinner conversation, and drinks after. While she talked, she placed her hand on my shoulder maintaining physical contact with me while she asked about his evening. Her fingers and nails traced along my shoulders and down my spine as she chatted bursa escort away. I arched my back to show my approval and continued sipping my wine. I found myself very turned on by her keeping her boyfriend in limbo while continuing her seduction of me.

She stepped things up a notch. I felt her fingers search in my dress for the zipper, seeking to pull it down and continue undressing me. I could feel my body react to her bold move, I felt my tummy tighten, my head went back a bit, and my pussy gave off a very familiar tingle. My reaction surprised me, that I would find it erotic her undressing me while on the phone with him. Soon she did find the zipper and pulled it down to where it ended at the small of my back. She opened my dress, tracing patterns with her fingers as she went. All while she listened as her boyfriend told her about his night. Her fingers reached the hook of my strapless bra, and the nimble fingers from one hand unhooked my bra.

Keeping her boyfriend going, she turned me to face her. Pulling my arms to my front, she the straps over my shoulders and pulled the dress down my front to my waist. Apparently, he asked her if he could come over, she told him she was just about to go to bed when she pulled my bra from my body and let it fall to the floor. She cupped each breast in turn, as she told him to stop pouting, that she would see him the next evening. She moved close enough for me to smell the sweet wine on her breath. Her free hand moved down my front, to where the dress had gathered around my waist. I could tell from her smile that she was enjoying this interlude as much as I was. She began pulling my dress over my hips until it fell to around my feet lying next to my discarded bra.

I gingerly stepped out of the dress, careful not to make too much noise with my heels on her hardwood floors. Once again leaning back against the counter, I slightly parted my legs wondering just how far Mari would play this game. Her self-confidence grew as she first took a sip of wine, then dipped a finger into the glass and brought her finger to my mouth. She rocked her finger back and forth on my tongue, sliding it in and out of my mouth, before pulling her finger out, and tracing it down between my breasts to my tummy. She again told him he could not come by her place, telling him he needed to be patient. Her finger went over my panties to my crotch she told him patience pays its own rewards. He must have asked what that meant as she next told him she might have a surprise for him sometime soon. As she said that, her finger started rubbing my pussy through my panties, which made me suppress a slight moan. My hands went to her hand between my legs, and I kept her stroking to a manageable tempo. Her smile and light laugh indicated she was quite pleased with herself.

She broke contact again to hand me my glass of wine, which I took into my hands and then took a very liberal sip. The wine hit my tongue like a thunderclap, my head somewhat spinning from all of this. Here I stood in front of a lovely woman I met not three hours back, clad only in a heels, thigh-highs, and a thong, waiting for her to end her conversation with her boyfriend so she and I could have sex. More amazing than that was how at ease I felt with all of this. Mari took a step back and made a sweeping motion to some screens at the far end of her loft. She motioned me to her bedroom. I flipped my hair back, grabbed her glass of wine, and took both across the room to her bed. I could feel her eyes on my legs and ass as I walked past her living area to her bed. He must have noticed the sound of my heels, as she had to explain to him she was turning out lights and locking up for the night.

Once behind the screen, I slipped off my heels placed the glasses of wine on her nightstand, and lay back on her bed. I could hear her moving around, this time she really was locking up, dimming the lights, and then appeared from behind the screens at the foot of her bed holding on to my dress and bra. Looking at me lying on her bed she told him, she really needed to get to bed. He was not taking the hint as she remained on the phone listening to his voice while her eyes moved up and down my body. She laughed and rolled her eyes as he started another discussion with her, so I decided it was my turn to up the ante. With her watching me, I pulled my legs up and apart as my hands massaged my breasts and pinched my nipples. My left hand went to my mouth, I started licking and sucking my own fingers, while my right hand moved down my tummy to my legs. Keeping my eyes on hers, I started stroking my pussy through my panties. I smiled both at her and when I found my clit through my panties. I arched my back, moved my left hand back to my breasts, pulling my nipples, inviting her all the time to join me.

For the first time that evening, her façade broke and she actually bit her lip in frustration while watching me. I giggled but kept at it. She made a movement with her hand, willing me to pull my panties off, which I answered by shaking my head and mouthing to her she could very well do that herself. She actually had to turn her back to me, to stop looking at me, and took a more severe tone when telling her boyfriend she would call him in the morning. Finally it seemed he took the hint as she bade him a good night and clicked the phone off.

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